


I Saved the World, You Bring the Snacks

by Ranowa



Series: The Thanos Problem [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Fluff, Gen, Recovery, Snarky Tony Stark, Stand Alone, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, because happiness that's why, endgame except everyone lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19841722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranowa/pseuds/Ranowa
Summary: Tony's got a bit of an, honestly, well-deserved Messiah Complex, a daredevil spiderson who, fine, he will actually do anything to make happy, and a snarky best friend and wife by his side. Oh, yeah, and two Norse gods are crashing his recovery party.Still is having the best night that a guy could ask for.(can be read as a stand-alone)





	I Saved the World, You Bring the Snacks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Akarri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akarri/gifts).



> Well, it is a little late, but... happy birthday, Akarri! And a thank you, for force-feeding me MCU until I was sobbing in a movie theater for my own birthday. And... ah, why am I thanking you for that, again...?
> 
> As said in the summary, this can be read as a stand-alone. The four fics before it are all Loki-centric, and all you need to know is Loki Wasn't the Bad Guy in Avengers + with some handwavey magic stuff, Loki saved Tony's bacon after the snap in Endgame. Meanwhile- Ironfamily fluff!!!
> 
> (if you haven't noticed yet, I wrote 80k words of angst in three weeks for this. Fluff, and writing Tony, is... a bit of a different battle, haaahhh. Well- I hope you enjoy!!!)
> 
> July 2019 edit: grammar and housekeeping, it's all good :D

"You've never seen _Star Wars?"_

* * *

And that was how, Tony's very first night back home from the private hospital after the saving of the world, he found himself situated against a mountain of pillows, sandwiched as comfortably and securely as humanly possible, warm and safe with his haphazard definition of a family-

and gearing up for a Star Wars marathon.

Yeah, so, maybe he didn't actually have anything close to a clue, to describe how this had wound up.

"I still can't believe you've never seen any of these! There are _so many,_ Mr. Stark-" Peter sat, cross-legged, in a messy spread of DVDs about a decade out of date, and a laptop about two decades ahead of the curve. "Do you know how much I've wanted to have been there when these came out, experience it for _real-_ and you were actually there for it, and didn't even _bother!"_

"There for it..." Tony frowned once, scratching his hair. "How old do you think I _am,_ kid?"

"Older than dirt," came called from the kitchen; a lofty voice against the buzz of the microwave. "Older than Jesus Christ himself. Walked the earth still when the dinosaurs roamed- yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen, it was Tony Stank himself-"

"Oh, love you, too, honeybear!" Tony called back, and down on the floor, Peter had to suddenly press a hand to his mouth to choke back a snort.

All right, yeah, he still didn't really get _how_ he had wound up being held hostage for a mega movie marathon.

But there was a pretty solid possibility that it wasn't going to wind up being all that bad.

Rhodey soon strolled back in, bringing sustenance for the poor huddled masses; popcorn, burning hot and steaming, a soda for the kid, beer for himself, water for guess who. _The invalid_. Hmph. Peter was still neck-deep in everything, now actually poking at his TV, examining the controls in an almost child-like awe, and when a button-poke called up the holo-menu he looked excited as a little kid at Christmas.

It wasn't until after a few seconds into his fidgeting, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, that Tony remembered that Stark Industries had only started mass-producing holo-tech in 2021, two years ago.

Many years after Peter had died.

His stomach twisted and knotted in a game of twister, a wound that was no longer festering so much as still healing, languid like mud, and, gritting his teeth, Tony pulled out his phone.

Tony: FRIDAY, new project. Holo tech for the Parker house. The whole package

FRIDAY: Got it, boss.

FRIDAY: Did I mention yet how good it is to have you home, boss?

Tony: Does it count as a compliment if I programmed you to say that?

FRIDAY: Still counts, sir!

Tony: good

Tony: Wait, but what if I programmed you to say THAT?

FRIDAY: Analyzing...

"Who're you texting?"

"Huh?" Tony glanced up to Rhodey, offering him a glass, and dropped his phone to his lap so he could take it. "Your mom. Also, your aunt," he added, wagging a finger at Peter. "To make sure you get home in time. It _is_ a school night."

"It's _Friday,_ Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, and I bet you got Saturday detention, don't you? Still cutting class? Shame, Peter-" he tsked, but was smiling, all the same, just couldn't help himself, felt like he'd been smiling for weeks and hadn't quite stopped, "for _shame."_

Rhodey smirked, falling into place at the other side of the enormous couch, the one Tony had specifically engineered with heated cushions and surround sound speakers and a wireless charging strip to _be_ enormous. "Give him a break, Tony," he said, grinning, feet carefully stretched out, arms splayed all akimbo as if to make up for how careful he had to be with his legs. "He's just skipping his class on How to Help Save the Universe." He winked, once, down at Peter. "Pretty sure he's already got credit for it."

There was something supremely messed up about that, actually- that Rhodey could say that, and Peter could hear it without anything more than a slight flush, because that, actually had been literally _everything_ Tony had been trying to prevent. What felt like a million years ago, now, since first giving him the suit, actually- like, actually, literally _all of it,_ every step of the way. But somehow they'd ended up here, anyway: sixteen year old kid, shared credit for saving the _e n t i r e_ universe, which was just-

Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead, and forcefully banished those thoughts to the abyss where they belonged.

Seemed like he was still getting used to the whole, _we actually saved the universe this time,_ thing.

After they so spectacularly hadn't, the time before.

"All right," Peter said finally, extracting himself from the holo-menu with what seemed to be an excruciating effort, eyes still all but shining even as he crawled his way onto the couch himself, and nimble enough that it made Tony's back ache. "The first two tonight, then we'll figure it out from there. All... eight?" He started to pull out his phone, frowning. "There was supposed to be a ninth, is there a ninth? I'll be able to stream it by now, we can watch it together..."

Tony wasn't sure what to say to that- he really wasn't lying, when he said he'd never seen or followed the space soap opera of his and, now, Peter's, generation. Thankfully, his best friend was still waiting in the wings, ready to swoop in for the rescue- rocket in? How'd that work? Hmm...

"They, um. Canceled it," Rhodey said, his voice low and quiet. He coughed once into his drink, swirling it around, and the sudden lack of a smile, the familiar weary, old grief, told Tony everything that he needed to know. "A good set of the original cast died, in the... you know. Dusted. Then the ones left behind weren't doing so hot themselves, and- yeah, here we are." He coughed again, still distinctly uncomfortable, and seemed to be trying very hard to look just about anywhere but at either of them. "Here in the year of our Lord 2023, and no episode nine."

There was another awkward stretch of silence. Rhodey seemed suddenly very interested in playing with his hands, fingers tapping together, and Peter was back to staring down at his laptop, clearly with no idea what to say.

So much for a happy movie night.

A car pulled up outside, loud and obtrusive and oh, thank _god._ They all jumped at it, tension popped like a giant balloon and intensely relieved for the distraction, but before he could even start to get up he was already being pushed back down by two much faster and less totally wrung out friends. Peter lunged like an actual spider, hand to shoulder, stuttering, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark-" while Rhodey was already pushing him down at the back of his head, somehow outpacing him despite having exactly zero functioning legs.

"That'll be Pepper with the pizzas," he said, then pushed harder when Tony gave another attempt to squirm. "And Morgan. One sec."

"You _guys-_ oh, come on- I'm _fine,_ you're all just-"

"If you're fine, then you have no problem waiting while I get the door, yeah?"

"It's _my_ door! Rhodey- and you, too, kid?" he went on, gesturing, trying to wriggle out from under his hand, but _Christ,_ Peter was _strong._ Like he was battling Thor's grip, or Steve's, or- why did he hang out with so many super-strong people, again? "I'll tell Karen to put your training wheels back on," he challenged, switching tactics. "Don't test me. I'll do it."

Peter grinned, sunny and inexorable, and _damn it,_ so guess that threat no longer worked anymore, did it? "Happy will take it off," he said, finally releasing him. "Or Ned'll hack me back in again."

 _Ned... so he's the one I have to look out for._ Tony _hmphed_ under his breath, making a mental note to ask FRIDAY to check the boy out again later. Unbelievable. Being outmaneuvered by a teenage boy, and a roomful of Star Wars geeks. _Unbelievable._

Although it was only fair, that all the up and current superheroes could beat the one retired one in the room.

As Rhodey had guessed, it was, in fact, his wife and daughter, bearing lots of noise and excited hugs and still steaming pizza. Then he was trapped on the couch, not by Peter's supernaturally strong grip, but by a lapful of squirming little girl, by Pepper hugging him from behind, by Rhodey's sharp grin as he returned to his chair and Peter so happy beside him he looked like he might burst. "He~llo," he said, kissing Morgan's hair in the same breath as she cried, "Daddy!" and then, "Uncle Peter!"

Tony still wasn't all too clear, on how that had happened. By the time he'd first woken up, after the whole _infinity stone magic near-death and doom_ dealio, Peter had already graduated from just a face in a picture, to Morgan, straight into Uncle Peter. She'd adored him, and he'd been positively ecstatic over her, so close it was almost as if he'd been unconscious three years, not three weeks.

And to it, he had absolutely no complaints. None at all, he considered, not as Morgan firmly sandwiched herself in between them, Peter's hand messing up her already messed braids, nor as Morgan's little grip latched its way onto Tony's shirt.

Absolutely no complaints at all.

Okay, maybe a complaint or two about the whole missing arm thing.

 _Maybe_ one there.

"Is that an Iron Man pizza box?"

Tony blinked.

Sure enough, as Rhodey had said- his face. On the pizza box. Like a promotion for a new movie, except, as far as _he knew,_ there was no movie in the works just yet- which was, actually, a disgrace, because there _should be,_ and he already had the cast written out in his head-

"Yep," Pepper confirmed, and she poked Pizza-Box-Iron-Man right between the two glowing eyes, scratching his forehead with a nail. "Believe me, if I'd known, I'd have gone to another place." She pointed at him instead now, Real-Tony, but was smiling just as big as Morgan. "Don't get a swelled head about it, or when they start making action figures, I won't let you get one."

"You know what I just heard? The voice of a woman who- everyone listening? Everyone ready?- who _doesn't_ have herself immortalized on a pizza box. Mankind's most honored tradition, and are any of you on it?" he called, pointing a hand around, landing on Rhodey, rolling his eyes, Pepper, rolling her eyes harder, Peter, by the look of it fighting not to smile- everyone except Morgan, who, of course, didn't count, because as far as he was concerned she was immortalized on the pizza box with him. Same blood, all of that. "Any of you at all?" he prodded again, grinning. "No? Just me?"

 _"All riiiight,"_ Rhodey called, loud and just sing-song enough that it made Morgan giggle. "We _get it,_ Tony Pizza-Box Stank- now, are we going to start the movie? Or are we gonna keep bickering so long that Luke and Leia end up as old as Tony?"

Which was the cue for FRIDAY to dim the lights, Peter to ridiculously stretch out a leg to click _play_ on his laptop with his toe-

And, it occurred to Tony, for Rhodey to slip away unscathed, because as old as Tony was- Rhodey was two years _older._

The _ass._

Yeah, he was definitely gonna get him back for that one.

It had been a little less than two months, since the snap. Since Bruce's snap, and then his own, later that same day, after the forces of Thanos and Squidward had crash-landed right on top of their heads. Much of the world was still reeling, but for once, he'd rather neatly excised himself out of it all.

Hadn't really been in much of the world-saving sort of mood, these days.

Nor had pretty much any of his friends been in the mood to let him do it if he had, apparently.

The infinity stones had completely devoured his right arm. Loki had chopped away at it, without asking, still in a weird move that he really didn't quite get, but Tony supposed he couldn't even really be angry at him for it, because as it turned out, he hadn't done anything that wouldn't have needed to be done in the end. The tortured goth god had taken his knife to his lower arm, just to get at the infinity stones: time had shown that the arm had been dead, anyway. Nerves fried all to all to hell like a steak burned to charcoal, muscles and tissue dead beyond restoration, spreading in agony all the way up to his shoulder.

Even from the vibranium advances of Wakanda to the magical healers of Asgard, there'd been nothing to do for it except amputate.

The stones had taken more, still- greedy little bastards, and as far as he was concerned they were better off left back in their own damn timelines. Or never being created to begin with. The scars stretched still up the right side of his neck, grey and hungry, a faded tendril clawing up as far as his face that looked like he was being eaten alive by some kind of alien parasite. His right eye's vision was pretty shot, not blind entirely but a mess enough that he was just glad he'd already worn tinted glasses, to divert prying eyes, and his right ear's hearing felt like it'd been taken in half by a baseball bat.

Also, while nobody believed him, he _swore_ that it had added grey to the right side of his hair.

It _had!_

He knew that Peter and Rhodey had been talking, behind his back. Already planning prostheses, a mechanical eye to fix up his vision, vibranium implants to correct hearing loss that was like nothing his doctors had ever seen on Earth. Tony hadn't bothered to tell them to knock it off, yet. They'd figure it out soon enough for themselves, anyway. An actual new arm, like the shiny and dangerous one Bucky had, took years to really acclimate to- a whole bunch of surgeries, a whole bunch of rehab, a whole bunch more of recovering, and... yeah. _Yeesh._ Maybe someday, sure. Maybe when Morgan was in high school, and not so small he nearly had a heart attack every time he saw her climbing a tree.

For now, he was a-okay like this.

Watching Star Wars with a bunch of geeks, blinking fuzzily against vision that only really half worked and listening to explosions that came in all muted on one side, the one arm he still had around his daughter's shoulders, and definitely having his best night of the year.

(Of the past five years.)

Or at least, it _was,_ until FRIDAY interrupted it.

"Two visitors approaching, Mr. Stark," she announced, the movie pausing right in the middle of Indiana Jones and his band of misfits cosplaying a bunch of Stormtroopers. "Mr. Thor Odinson and Mr. Loki Odinson."

Ooohhhhhhh, _great._

Tony waved the others down, mostly because, yeah, Loki, still not all too clear on the guy, not interested in having Peter answer the door to Mr. I Tried to Conquer Earth. "That's just Thor," he said, as if FRIDAY had not already announced it as such, and worked to his feet while obstinately ignoring all their attempts to help. "He said he'd swing by before they left for Norway. Wanted to pick up something my people've been working for Asgard."

" _With_ his crazy brother, though?"

"Yeah," Tony groaned, waving a hand at Rhodey, "well, he might've left that part out... just gimme a sec." _Can't believe my party's being crashed by gods..._

_AND that I'm not even happy about it._

And, as FRIDAY had promised, there at his door were the two Norse gods of old: Point Break, in all his sober glory, and Rudolph the Gloomy Nosed Reindeer, in all his... Shakespeare Viking glory.

Sheesh.

"Friend Tony!" Thor cried, pulling him into a hearty viking hug that all but knocked the entire wind out of his lungs, then stepped back just as quickly to thrust both his arms skyward. "It is good to see you well!"

"Yeah, and it's good to see you-" He glanced him over, making triple, triple sure- "-not drunk." Obstinately did not say anything to or about Loki, who lingered, pale and silent as a ghost, at his brother's shoulder. "You're here for the New Asgard project?"

"As promised," Thor said, bowing his head. "With Asgard's gratitude, and our promise to return the favor, should you ever ask of it. And-"

"-and all the riches and glory of space vikings, yeah; listen, we're having a movie night- you want to come in? While FRIDAY's getting everything," he said, which was, in fact, FRIDAY's cue to _get everything._ "A movie," he said again, waving his hand about to illustrate. "Like a book, but ten times as fun. Seriously, how do you guys have interdimensional travel but not movies?"

Thor was already smiling again, smiling the most genuine that Tony had seen out of him in... quite possibly _ever,_ actually. It was good to see, if not also a little sad, realizing that this really was the happiest his friend had been in the past decade and a half, and it was with his crazy brother at his side. "We would be honored!" he said, already striding forward, adding, "Brother, come! I've told you, Midgardian merriment rivals even that of Asgard, you must see..."

Loki, however, just continued to linger outside in the dark. Arms folded, face settled in a slight, crooked smirk, and, thankfully, for Tony's peace of mind, remaining quite firmly outside. Unbeknownst to his boisterous brother, already happily greeting everyone back inside. "It is quite all right, Stark," Loki said, as quiet as his brother was loud. "I understand the invitation did not extend to myself."

Which... well, yeah, it- actually hadn't. Thor was one thing, but his brother was a _TOTALLY_ different one, and considering he now had a family to contend with? No, sir. No siree, not in any way, shape, or form, was Loki getting invited into Stark Tower for that drink, any time soon. The only saving grace here was that he didn't seem to be about to push it.

To leave Tony, uncertain in his own doorway, and staring at the god left sitting on his porch like a stray kitten, and- somehow, not sure what to do.

Did he trust Loki? Hell no. Not as far as he could throw him, which knowing how ridiculously heavy Asgardians were, was not far at _all._ But Thor, for some reason, _did_ seem to. Unquestioningly, and to the point of violence if anyone disagreed (SHIELD had gotten one sniff at Loki, and promptly been haunted by a thunderstorm for a month). And considering Tony had already seen Thor chuck his brother out of an airplane for Earth, it wasn't brotherly love clouding his mind, but something that had actually _changed,_ for him to re-evaluate his perspective, both on Loki and the events of 2012. The same way Steve had, very reluctantly, not been able to have a bad word to say about his actions in Wakanda, and the same way Bruce now, even after breaking his spine in half, obstinately considered Loki a friend.

And now...

Loki had been on Earth for two months, now. Staying nearby with Thor, while he recovered enough to teleport to Norway, as Thor had put it- Tony still wasn't sure how much of the excuse, if any of it, was true, but he at least didn't seem to be in tip-top shape. Still pale and wane and slight, somehow, even though Tony knew from experience with Thor that pushing him would be like blowing at a brick wall. But, two months, and not even a single whisper of a scheme to take Earth for his own. And Tony knew, he could've done it. He'd wound up with all six infinity stones, right there for the taking, _literally_ all the power of the universe at his feet, and...

He'd chosen to ignore them, and instead had saved his life without a second thought.

Still, Tony didn't trust him. Probably never would, not until he got some answers, and there was a decent chance that he wouldn't even after that.

But, _Thor_ clearly did, and even if the past five years hadn't exactly shown Thor's judgment in the best of lights-

Seriously, the guy was looking way too much like a stray tortured goth kitten, just standing out there alone.

"Two rules," he said, holding up the requisite fingers. "One: so much as look at my daughter, and I blow your head off."

Loki blinked.

"Two," Tony went on. "Attempt to flirt with my wife, and _she'll_ blow your head off." He grinned easily, sagged against the doorframe and somehow, though he didn't really quite understand how, actually at ease. "Any questions?"

Loki blinked a second time.

He stood quietly for a few more seconds, so silent he could've heard a pin drop. Arms folded and one eyebrow raised, and, yeah, Tony could've _sworn_ that he was supposed to be missing an eye, but whether it was from space magic healing or it was a pretty light's show like in Germany, he had no idea. All he knew was that this Loki had two eyes, both watching him, unreadable and inscrutable.

Then, his mouth quirked, very faintly, into what he just would have to guess was a Loki smile. "I see," he said, monotonous, and treated him to a very calm, unreadable once-over, then lifted a hand to pick at his nails like some sort of princess. "Am I permitted to flirt with you, then? Or shall that have my head removed from my shoulders as well?"

Ahhh, yeah.

New rule, in Tony's life: no more space vikings at his parties.

"Permitted?" he said, smirking, and stepped back once to yield the way into his house. "Yeah, sure. But I gotta warn you, Reindeer Games- I'm not really that into guys who wear their horn on their head."

Then, he turned his back on the struck silent, slowly turning pink Loki, and headed back towards his the rest of the gang.

"Tony Stark: 1," FRIDAY announced, and computer program or no, there was absolutely a lilt of humor in there, and he could almost imagine her smiling. "Loki Odinson: 0."

Tony smirked again.

Thor looked up at their approach, turning from where he already seemed to have made himself very comfortable, sitting on the floor in front of Peter with a thieved mug of popcorn and beaming bright as the movie. "Brother, there you are!" he said, waving him over with his popcorn. "Come- they have delicious popped corn, and you have yet to meet Lady Morgan!"

"Uncle Thor!" Morgan piped up helpfully, squirming joyfully when Thor gave her a kiss on the forehead, and Loki blanched.

_"Uncle?"_

"Ah, yes- the title works differently here, Loki, it is a title bestowed upon honored male friends of the parents, it-"

"-is non-transferrable," Tony said, giving Loki a look as he reclaimed his place on the couch. "So, just because Thor is one, doesn't mean _you_ are one." He clicked his tongue, saying, "Reminder: rule one." Then, shifted back around to the TV.

(All right, fine, _maybe,_ it had been worthwhile to invite the guy in).

They situated back down comfortably, after that. Tony with Morgan kept close by his side, Peter on her other, Thor cross-legged and beaming on the floor, Rhodey and Pepper in opposite armchairs. Loki, especially wary in general, it seemed like, finally decided on standing wordlessly between him and Rhodey, arms still folded and face set in a permanent scowl.

Until, to Tony's vast amusement, he actually looked at the screen, and then proceeded to light up just like Peter.

In the repressed goth sort of _I've-got-a-stick-up-my-ass_ way.

"Are those blades of light and heat energy?" he asked, watching with interest as Sensei Cannoli fought Darth Vader. (Yeah, he did know _some_ of the names). "Asgard experimented with the concept some time ago, but was unable to properly contain the waves. How _did_ you manage it?"

"Oh, Loki- no, this is the fabled Midagrdian War of the Stars, it is not-"

 _"Shhhh,"_ Rhodey hushed, an exaggerated stage whisper with a finger pressed to his lips; Tony just gritted his teeth to swallow back laughter as desperately hard as he could. "Don't tell him, Thor! Don't ruin the magic!"

"Tell me... what?"

Tony shushed next, then Morgan next to him, which set off a round of laughter even though it was clear that she had no idea what all the shushing was about, just that she wanted to join in. Loki was fading pink again, like he had the pride not to splutter but really wanted to, and Tony made a mental note to update the scoreboard up to Tony: 2, Loki: 0.

One of Tony's carrier bots came soon after, bringing the requested device straight for Thor. Who, of course, accepted it with much gusto and gratitude, but Tony was more focused on the _second_ item it had brought over, which he had most definitely not asked for. It was a StarkPhone, but definitely not for Thor, who already had one. Or... anyone else in the room, because they all had one, besides Morgan. So...?

_Oooooohhh._

_Damn._

Now he got it.

Earlier, when FRIDAY had inferred to get everything for the Odinsons- she'd inferred to get everything for _both_ of them.

Including ole Reindeer Games beside him, who he still hadn't actually settled on whether or not he should give anything to at all.

_Note to self: fix FRIDAY._

_Goddammit._

"Ah... Stark?" Loki somehow managed to keep his composure, staring downwards with a raised eyebrow as the bot rolled into his leg over and over, insistent and annoyed at being ignored. He kept his voice to a murmur, this time, speaking underneath the ongoing explosion on screen. "I believe your servant is malfunctioning."

"No," Tony muttered back, "it is _trying_ to give you something. You're just being rude and ignoring it. Him. Him." He coughed once into his hand, tugging his jacket closer about his shoulder again. "Go on- tell him you're sorry."

Loki stared back for a breath, such a cross between venomous and baffled Tony had to bite back another snicker. Slowly, with an air that suggested he expected it to explode in his face, he drew down to the floor to, with two fingers, delicately extricate the phone. Again, looking at it as if he fully expected it to explode.

He stared at it. He stared at Tony, like he thought him a small, stupid child.

"It's a _phooone,"_ Tony explained, slipping out his own to wag at him. "Figured if you're marooned on Earth for a while, you're gonna need to do as the Earthlings do, and that's download Candy Crush and be able to text your buddy from anywhere in the world. You're welcome."

Loki gave him another incredulous look, then back down to the phone, still fingering it very, very carefully. His mouth twitched. "Ah, look. I have a message already," he said quietly, voice positively dripping sardonicism. "From, apparently, _Jesus Christ Himself:_ this is for saving my life. You're welcome." Slowly, looking as if he'd just eaten something extremely unpleasant- and, perhaps, like he was about to take a bite out of _him,_ next- Loki's pale eyes lifted to rest onto him again.

"Yep, that's me," Tony confirmed. "Good luck changing my contacts name. Your brother is _Mightier Than U,_ Val's is _Kick Names, Take Ass,_ I'm pretty sure, and I _really_ expect you'll like Bruce's." He grinned again, further emboldened by the look on Loki's face, and when the guy opened his mouth to protest abruptly shushed him again. "Now _watch_ the _movie,_ " he said, and swiveled back around to get back to said task himself.

A few moments and a quiet hmph later, Loki did.

Somewhat miraculously, actually, it actually did fall pretty quiet, after that point, and they managed to continue watching the movie without imminent distraction, explosion, or catastrophe. Which was probably the first time this group of people had successfully achieved _anything,_ together, which Tony really thought deserved some applause, to be honest. Even if Morgan was starting to look really sleepy, next to him, and this being his first night home he was getting tired, as well, and was starting to really consider the merits of a living-room sleepover.

Tony's water ran dry somewhere around the point of a big group meeting of all the rag-tag heroes in the galaxy, and their plans to bring death to the Death Star. _(Note to FRIDAY: start some kind of Death Star project. No, don't know what about, yet, but the name is the most important part, and the name is damn solid)_. Now, because Tony was a sensible person- no matter what anyone in this room would cry to the contrary- he planned to just, sit there and suffer, like a sensible, normal person would. But, because no one _around_ him was a sensible person anymore, he'd barely managed to set the glass down before Peter had scrambled to his feet, snagging it with one ridiculously quick hand.

"Underoos, sit _down-"_

"Just one sec, Mr. Stark-"

"By the love of all that is holy, so, like, by the love of _me-"_

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Rhodey," he groaned, burying his face in his hand, "I _know_ he's already gone!"

In the immortal words of Rocket the Care-Bear, _un-frickin'-believable._

The movie continued on for a few minutes, after that. The continuing adventures of the motley space crew which _actually_ weren't half-bad? Although, Tony did still maintain his suit was cooler than space wizards. Also, the robot duo was always fun, and definitely gave him a few ideas to implement into FRIDAY's protocols...

It wasn't until Team Heroes was getting all reared up and ready to go, and Tony was considering that _he might actually like this movie after all,_ and also, what had he been _doing_ for the last fifty years, that he realized that they were still alone.

Namely, Peter had been gone for a solid, what, ten minutes?

For a kitchen that was _maybe_ ten feet away.

Nope. Not okay.

Five years gone was more than long enough for him to not care, call his paranoia justified, healthy, and welcome, and indulge in it all the way up to his ears, when the situation at hand in any way at all concerned Peter Parker.

He glanced first at Rhodey, making a little noise in his throat, then Pepper, patting the empty couch cushion that was meant to contain one bouncing spider. They both shared his look of faint apprehension, Pepper especially, and after one shared look between the three of them, a silent agreement was established.

Jacket tugged closer about his right side, Tony, ignoring all the wary stares directed right at his back, headed back to the kitchen as quietly as he could.

Peter was there. Right where he was supposed to be, in one piece, and still breathing. And Tony didn't think he'd ever get past the last five years enough to not be so relieved his head spun, to see it. As to just what was taking him so long, though, that was still up in the air- leaned so casually back against the counter, glass forgotten about-

Quietly staring a picture, slipped from the nearby shelf and clasped in barely steady hands.

Peter noticed his approach, of course. The whole spider-sense thing, which Tony really still wanted to get under a microscope, disallowing any attempts at sneaking before they even got off the ground. "Mr. Stark," he said, blinking up at him with wide eyes, then started as if he'd only remembered what he was meant to be doing here in the first place. "Oh! Mr. Stark, I'm sorry, I just- never mind. I-" He tried to put the picture back where he'd found it, which was all he needed to see to know what it was of.

His heart throbbed distantly at even the reminder, and it hurt just a little bit too much to smile.

Even with super-strength the kid still handled him with kid gloves, and it was child's play for Tony to wrest the picture from him and hold it for both to see.

It was the picture of them together, that day at Avengers HQ when Tony had offered to make him an official member, and Peter had turned him down.

"...I'm sorry," Peter said after several seconds, hugging himself and fidgeting. He looked unspeakably awkward at being caught- what? Just looking at a picture of himself? But still, he couldn't even meet Tony's eyes, anymore, rubbing at his neck, staring at his feet, then hugging himself again like he was cold even though Tony knew for a fact he was not. "I didn't realize what it was. I just saw a picture, and I picked it up- I'm still trying to catch up, there's so much that I missed and still don't know. But no one likes it if you ask those questions, so I just... I didn't realize it was-"

"Kid," Tony sighed, and for the umpteenth time since the final confrontation against Thanos, he pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Somehow, he'd gotten a second chance.

He was going to do it right, this time.

"...I'm sorry," Peter mumbled again. His voice was smaller, this time, and his arms tentative even as he returned the hug. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark."

"Nope." Tony squeezed tighter once, giving a reproachful tug on his hair even as his stomach, heart, entire world view gave such a violent lurch he nearly strangled on it. All he could hear was _I'm sorry_ against Titan's choked sky with an armful of dust and the world already ended at his feet. "Sorry, new rule. You don't get to say that at all. Ever again. About anything. Sorry."

"But-" he tried to squirm away, his voice shaking, suddenly heavy with the same apology Tony felt like he'd spent every day of the past two months hearing. "But, you're hurt- you-"

Tony shook his head. No patience for it, no humoring the nonsense, this time, no _but what-if-_

Yeah, he was hurt.

_And you're alive, kid._

That was enough.

They stood there together for a little while longer, Peter too small and too pale and too _damn apologetic_ for someone who'd just helped save the universe and helped Tony piece his life back whole, all in one. Tony let his hand rest on the back of his head, warm, _alive,_ breathing in deeply even if it hurt just to feel Peter move with him, and remembered, _this is real._

_He's alive._

It wasn't quite peace.

But, it was getting there.

The world was getting there.

"We should probably get back," Peter said, finally. The words came out a little shaky, a little weak, and Tony couldn't help but squeeze him tighter. "Before someone notices we're missing."

Tony rolled his eyes, messing up his hair one last time before, somehow, as much as it left him a little aching and a little cold, forcing himself to pull back. "Like I did with you, you mean." But, the kid was right, and considering how protective Rhodey and Pepper were nowadays, if he didn't want two Iron Man suits busting in here, guns blazing...

_...hmm._

"Actually," Tony said, quickly. He caught onto the hem of Peter's sleeve, just as he started to pass by, guiding him back closer with little more than that gentle tug. "Before that, just so I don't get forget. I've got something to give you."

"What- a present? Mr. Stark, no, you don't have-"

"FRIDAY?" he said, running over _that_ nonsensical protest like a bulldozer. Honestly, what kind of a kid said no to a _present._ "Bring me Design S of Project Rescue?"

"On it, boss."

Peter blinked, seeming unsure whether to continue protesting the existence of any present for all the rest of time, or give in to the curiosity Tony _knew_ was building. With a grin, Tony made the decision for him, settling himself back against the counter to fill up his glass on his own while FRIDAY busied herself digging about his workroom. "You only get this if you agree to my terms, though, you got it?" he said, wagging a finger. "If you say no, then it goes to the nearest kid who pouts most impressively in my direction, all right? Unless that kid is you, in which case, no, you still don't get it."

"Get _what?"_ He craned his neck about like he hadn't just _heard_ Tony have FRIDAY fetch if for him, and was expecting it to maybe just materialize out of thin air instead. Hell, maybe that wasn't even an unreasonable assumption- he still didn't know how far holo tech had advanced. "And what terms? If- if you're putting training wheels back on my suit, Mr. Stark," he started, head shaking earnestly, "I already told you-"

"Oh, _relax,_ would you, Underoos. It's not that. Well." He stopped, putting a hand to his chin. "Maybe it is, in a way..."

"Mr. _Stark!"_

"Down, boy," he chuckled under his breath, still grinning. _Oh,_ he'd missed this. Hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it until it was happening again and suddenly it felt like he'd spent five years holding his breath, and for the first time since Titan he could let go. "It is an adjustment to your suit, like I said, only if you want it. If not, I'll leave it alone. I can go over it with you in detail later, but it's a space-suit upgrade. Remember how you almost fell off the flying donut?" Of course he did, already nodding and grinning, eyes bright, and Tony couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, not this time. This can withstand deep-space temps, and also switch to cool you off if you get dunked into an active volcano. Enough oxygen for twenty-four hours, and it makes you durable enough that you'll be able to withstand having a moon chucked at you from outer space. Ah. Just once, though. No promises if there's a second moon, waiting to be chucked."

Once again, Peter looked about as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. "Are you serious?" he pressed, beaming, then made a tiny little squeak of excitement in his throat, wringing his fingers together as if he couldn't even keep still. "I _have_ to see what this looks like, are you kidding me- that is _amazing,_ Mr. Stark-"

"Yeah, yeah, it really is, isn't it?" he said, waving a hand. "All thanks to your resident billionaire genius philanthropist-" Actually, it wasn't, it was thanks to the wonders of vibranium, AKA space magic metal that he was just absolutely _crushed_ that he hadn't gotten his hands on before, but... well. Spilled milking, crying, all that. "Any _way_ ," he pressed on, waving a hand in front of Peter's face, because he could already see the daydreams starting. "Before you get all excited, remember, there's still that the catch? My terms?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sure! Absolutely, Mr. Stark- absolutely, whatever you want-" Seriously, the kid looked like he was about to jump for happiness. "Just tell me where to sign-"

Tony tsked quietly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. All right, so maybe Peter didn't need a bodyguard, anymore. He might still send a Stark Industries lawyer out to tail him, though, to stop him from signing any contract that would then come back to bite him. "My terms are really just agreeing to use the suit upgrade, with informed consent," he said, licking his lips. Yeah, this was where this conversation had gone sour, last time. Where he imagined it going sour every time. Could already taste the bitterness, in his mouth. "See, this is really only a defensive upgrade, Peter. If the criteria gets met, then it kicks in. You won't be able to fight all that well in it. Not that that matters, because the protocol to engage the upgrade is also to kick in the thrusters and bring you home, no questions asked, and no second-guessing allowed."

It took a few seconds for Peter, still one hundred percent embroiled in trying to keep his head on and not smile his face off, to hear what he'd said. Then, a few seconds more, to hear what was underneath it.

The bright gleam in his eyes started to dim, just a little, and his megawatt smile faded with it.

"That's right," Tony said, allowing his own smile to fade a bit with it. "This is pretty much the _Live to Fight Another Day_ protocol. I'd be willing, _maybe,_ to edit the criteria with you, and it's definitely not as over-zealous as you're thinking. But if you wear the suit, that means there could be a fight where there's still people you could save, and it's lifting you out anyway and taking you home."

"...oh," Peter said.

And, yeah, Tony knew that look really well.

He'd made the suit after Titan. A long while after Titan, when the sharp, bleeding pain of it had started to fade, the gaping wound barely stitched shut, but all the days had seemed grey and even waking up next to Pepper in the morning hadn't been enough to put a smile on his face, or one on hers. Even though a part of him had known, even as he'd hammered out the specs, that the suit wouldn't have helped him. That Peter still would've died in his arms and he would've been left sitting on Titan next to a blue crazy cyborg, utterly and completely alone.

He just hadn't been able to let go of the desperate hope, with every single blueprint that he'd thrown in the trash and every last design he stomped under his foot, that there had to have been _something_ he could've done.

He'd ended up making an upgrade for everyone. Everyone that mattered- everyone that was left.

Save the ones he'd made for Pepper and Rhodey, he still had them all.

Thor's natural biology had far-outstripped any suit that he could've made for him. The Hulk's, uh, 'natural' physiology? Ditto. There'd been no point in making a suit for either of them, and by the time he'd gotten around to designing the tech, both of them had pretty firmly sworn off the superhero life, anyway.

By the time he'd gotten around to designing the tech, Clint had also gone missing. Some high-ranking, still surviving friend of his in the government had signed off on an early end to the house arrest, and he hadn't been seen since. Tony had had the ability to search for him, yeah, but just... couldn't.

Couldn't face Clint knowing he had almost everything, while Clint had almost nothing.

Natasha, he'd gotten pretty far into the conversation with. She'd been interested. She'd liked it. She'd still been in the superhero life, and definitely could've used it.

When she'd found out his terms, her interested _tell me more_ had pivoted into an immediate, unequivocal _no._

She'd already survived the end of the world once, she'd said.

Hadn't said that she didn't have it in her to survive it again.

She hadn't had to.

He'd made a suit for Steve, too. Something about the end of the world that really helped settle past differences. He'd spent days on it, specifically, even giving it the good ole' red white and blue star and wondering if he could stomach saying _I'm sorry about Barnes_ when he gave it to him, and practicing the words in the mirror, had been a little surprised to find out he really, actually meant them.

The nano-tech pod still sat on top of the wedding invitation that he'd never been able to send.

And all of that just left Peter.

The old Peter, the one from before Thanos, would've told him no, too. Because he was brilliant, tough as nails, and with a heart of gold, but he was also still a kid, and, in a way, like Steve- walking away when people still needed him was no better than a defeat at all. Tony had loved it about him and hated it so much, at the very same time. Or, really, just loved it- loved _him-_ and hated the way it had made him feel.

But this was not the old Peter, and two months wasn't all that long a time, but maybe now that he saw _exactly_ what that meant, maybe now that he'd seen exactly what his death had accomplished-

Maybe now, he'd think twice.

Peter was quiet, for several long moments. Shifted from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip, at least _thinking_ about it, at least giving it serious pause. "Can I..." He paused again, crooked frown twitching, then dropped lightly down to his knees, picking up the red and gold nano-tech pod one of his carrier bots had returned with. It was a small, smooth disc, almost innocuous, but he still traced it so carefully it was as if it was made of gold. "Can I say yes, but change my mind later?" Peter lifted his gaze back up to meet his eyes, still holding the tech with steady hands, almost reverently, as if he felt honored to be able to to touch it at all. "Because I think my answer is yes, right now. But... Mr. Stark, I..." A flicker of indecision crossed his young, pale face, uncertainty against the need for approval in his warm eyes, and Tony's arm abruptly empty and had the sudden need to hug him again.

"I don't know if it'll always be yes in the future," he finished, finally. Swallowed once, his throat jumping. Looked back up.

Tony sighed.

 _You could throw it back in my face, and it'd still be okay, because you're alive,_ he could taste, but instead, all he said was, "Yeah, Peter," and he pushed his hand closed over the tech to officially make it his own. "You can say that."

Then, without another word, he tugged the kid to his feet, and, arm around his shoulders, led him back towards the continuing adventures of the motley space crew.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next in my head is a vague Loki & Steve AU, with meddling from Strange and hugs from Thor. Hopefully I manage to write it, and hopefully if I do, I'll see some of you there! 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated and welcome :D


End file.
